Get Away
by lisek16
Summary: CM Challenge (November):: After Vaughn tries to explain about Alice, Sydney begins her pursuit to flee the things she can’t change she learns there is no easy way to get away


Title: Get Away  
Author: Lisek16 (Lisek16@yahoo.com)  
Rating: PG-13 (R To be on the safe side, and a reminder of bad language)  
Spoilers: everything up through "Counteragent".  
Summary: CM Challenge (December):: After Vaughn tries to explain about Alice, Sydney begins a her pursuit to flee the things she can't change she learns there is no easy way to get away.  
Disclaimer: If you believe I own the rights to Alias, you need to have you head checked. "Happy Happy Joy Joy" belongs to the Ren and Stimpy creators, and the Mona Lisa belongs to the art world.  
  
Author's Note: Happy Thanksgiving to All. I'd like to Extend A HUGE happy birthday my close friend Sicilienne who turned 18 today and to Michael Vartan who also celebrates his birthday today. I'd also like to thank my friend Melin for suggesting some questions for me to answer in the conclusion.   
  
---  
Prologue:  
  
  
My eyes open hazily.  
  
I can feel the sunlight dancing off of my eyelids.  
  
As I wake a little more, I can feel the heavy mascara and goopy eye make-up melting into my complexion, and slowly as if a faucet was being turned on I realize that I'm not in Kansas anymore. I'm not safe at home in my room.  
  
My eyes dart open, as a sickening feeling floods me and I notice I'm not alone. There is a mystery man sharing the seedy motel room with me. I don't recognize him and that scares me. I peek under the covers and notice I'm partly dressed, I notice my shoes and jacket are neatly laid on the tacky orange armchair, and I slither out of bed to retrieve them.   
  
I try to forget what I think happened and search for a purse.  
  
Anything that would or could prove I was here, that I did this, and then I notice that John Doe is a little pale and as I get ready to leave I can see my lipstick smudges on his face and a bullet hole in his chest.  
  
_ _ _   
  
When Vaughn told me about Alice I thought I held myself together fairly well. I almost cried, I looked shocked but I thought I had it together; then he began to apologize. That reassuring smile and mad dash to the door was the only way to escape. I ran out. I came home to an empty house and in my mind there were only two options: Thinking about Vaughn or binge drinking, sadly I chose the latter.   
  
So I changed. I changed into a leather mini skirt, high black suede boots and some barely there midriff, though I suspect I could have just grabbed anything I'd ever worn for a mission and have imitated the look. I grabbed a jacket and plastered on the make-up.  
  
I wanted to disappear. I wanted to fade into the faceless crowds and I sure as hell wanted to get away from everything I had to go through on a daily basis.  
  
I don't remember how many bars I passed before I settled on one and went inside. I partly wanted to go to an out-of-the-way bar because I didn't want to be found and because I didn't want to remember who I was or where I was from. The "No Name" seemed like a perfect place to forget; to forget about Vaughn, and knowing that they were together. Images of him making love to her, when all along it should have been me.  
  
Images I wanted to forget.  
  
---  
How was I supposed to dispose of a dead body?  
  
I couldn't call Sloane. I couldn't explain what had happened because there would be too many questions and not enough answers.   
  
I couldn't call Francie because she'd run out of the run screaming, and I couldn't blame her.  
  
I couldn't call Vaughn because he'd pity me and then whatever had happened last night would hurt him. I didn't want him to hurt. I'm sure learning of Noah last year hurt him, but somehow the situation was different because I met Alice; face to face.  
  
Alice with her natural blonde tresses and petite frame; I bet she never worked out a day in her life. She never counted calories for the company scale and she never had to lie to Vaughn. I secretly wished I was her, especially right now.  
  
I'd do anything to get out of this room and forget that this ever happened  
  
WILL.  
  
His name popped into my head. Will knew the truth so this might not seem as suspicious or at least as suspicious as it could seem…   
  
A thought overwhelmed me; had I checked for bugs? Vaughn had told me I spoke in my sleep… "Don't frost the pie"  
  
What if I had told Mr. Nearly Naked who I was and then that got him killed?  
  
Call Will, I thought. He's the sanest one you have left. Check for bugs later, or maybe first… So I took out a lipstick and pulsed the possibility of bugs. Easy, I thought, if only everything was this easy.   
  
I used speed dial #3.  
  
"Hello" he said gruffly.  
  
"There's a problem. I need you." I speedily said.  
"Sydney?" I gulped as I realized that the voice on the other end of the line was Vaughn.   
  
Not Will. VAUGHN! Not Will. I hung up. Seemed fitting.   
  
Vaughn didn't know where I was. He couldn't be sure it was me; this might not be so bad if I just didn't think about it. So I called Will.  
  
"Hey Sydney!"  
  
"Will. I need your help." Flatly stated. CIA cell phone to CIA cell phone. There was no threat of bugs and I could have said any damn thing I pleased and when he said "come again." All I could say was "come."  
  
"Where are you?" he asked, I could hear his tone change; All fun and games to a seriousness that I wasn't used to from him.  
  
"Damned if I know."  
  
"What street is that off of?" It wasn't a funny comment. I didn't laugh. He wasn't used to this unexpected complication of seemingly normal and didn't know witty comments come later.  
  
"You okay Syd?" he asked. He didn't know how un-okay I was. I had just woken up in a strange place with no clue how I had gotten there or what had transpired the previous night but sure I was okay, I wasn't even wondering yet if I had been raped or set up or if I had killed an innocent boozehound or a father with children. I was still in the self-absorbed stage and there was no good answer to his question.  
  
"I think you need to come down here." I paused a moment and added "alone."  
  
"Where?" he hesitantly asked. He was scared and I knew he would be but there had been no one else. My mother was encaged in a hermetically sealed bubble and my father and I were barely on speaking terms.   
  
I looked out the window and saw the motel sign. Faded neon letters spelling out 'Colonial Arms Motor Inn' I told Will what the sign said neglecting to mention the sign that eternally spelled out Vacancy.   
  
"I'll meet you." He responded. I hung up the phone and thought, you better.  
  
---  
  
It's strange that being alone in a room with a decomposing corpse didn't disturb me. I guess I had truly seen it all. I simply went about my business of freshening up and searching for anything that could be linked to me. Once in awhile I'd catch his reflection in the scratched cracked mirror and a chill would run rampant down my exposed spine but other than that it was as if I was anywhere else.   
  
I looked around for anything of mine and looked at my disheveled appearance; the cracks in the mirror didn't help. I looked back out of the window and watched the cars and trucks zip passed the short span of highway my eye could envelop. Finally I saw Will pulling up. I waved to him from the window. It was more of a hand gesture of locality than a wave.  
  
He trotted to my door; I stepped outside to greet him. I hugged him or he hugged me, I honestly can't decipher between who embraced the other, but when we parted my hand let go of the door knob and allowed the door to swing back and sink into the wall. Will's focus passed my tearstained mascara-smeared face and to the bed.  
  
He wrinkled his forehead as Vaughn had done in the past; in concern and a dearth of true comprehension and I saved him a question by stating "don't know."  
  
We proceeded into the room as he tried to form a question. "Vaughn…" he managed to get out. I vigorously shook my head and firmly said "can't know."   
  
Will regained his verbosity and asked "How can you hide this?"  
  
"There are ways." I said ignoring the sinking sensation that I wasn't going to wake up and fine out that this was all a bad dream that could be attributed to some food poisoning.   
  
He looked a little terrified. He looked as though he was seeing me in a completely new light, like he had when he had learned I was a spy last year before being kidnapped. This was a little different. Now he was part of it. Recruited for life.   
  
"Help me." I said. "I need you to help me."  
  
"How are we going to move the… body." He stuttered as he tried to gain his composure.   
  
My mind was racing and blurred memories from all those Law and Order episodes I had forced Francie to record for me enlightened me to suggest the most cockamamie plan I ever heard. "If we pack the bath tub with ice and freeze the corpse and put him the under the bed they won't find him for weeks maybe. By then he should be decomposed enough that no one will be able to find out what happened."  
  
"Syd. Think about what you're saying."   
  
I thought I just pondered my plan. It had its flaws but it disposed of the body and incorporated a television show. Everything on Television ended happily and when it didn't there was always a perky commercial to brighten your day.  
  
"You are talking about obstructing justice."  
  
"Yeah. I know." I said quietly.   
  
"As long as we are on the same page..." He said.  
  
"So you'll help?" I asked.   
  
"Yeah. I'll help you dispose of a corpse. But what happened?" he asked with a concerned frown.  
  
"I don't want to talk about it."  
  
"If I'm going to help, I want to know why there is a corpse. I want to know what happened." He said it so firmly. I tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear and avoided his eyes as I said, "Last night I went out drinking."  
  
"At a club?" he asked hopefully. I think maybe he thought my drink could have been spiked. He was thinking that maybe I wasn't really to blame for this heinous crime, but a date rape drug was... I had thought about someone spiking my drink but I doubted it, I felt fine but I couldn't remember which could be to blame because of my compartmentalization of my not-so-happy memories.  
  
"At a bar. A REAL bar. I drank a lot." I drank a lot but my head didn't hurt. I felt refreshed and rejuvenated except for the striking feeling that came with waking up to a stiff.  
  
"So you picked him up at a bar?"  
  
"I woke up here. I don't know. I remember drinking. Drinking; then waking."  
  
"And he was dead."  
  
"And he was dead." I repeated. Dead as a doormat I thought.   
  
"Let's do some damage control." Look at Will getting all into it. "What time do the maids clean around here?" I raised my eyebrow because by the looks of this dump I'd say never but the plaque on the wall indicated noon. "Says noon." I said robotically.   
  
He looked at his watch. "8 AM. We don't have much time. We need to see the register and see who paid for the room. Do you want to go?" Silly rabbit. I shook my head. "You sure?" he skeptically asked. "Yeah" I murmured. John Doe and I had history and I didn't want Will exposed to the cacophony of possibility. He went downstairs to check out the identity of the… cadaver. Cadaver. I almost laughed. It was one of those terms I associated with Human Bio, not espionage. I was used to the blood, the gore, the fights and funerals not the frozen lifeless remnant of a life passed. I searched the room once more for a wallet, a purse, a driver license; Anything to tie him to a name and me to him.   
In the bathroom on the counter was a brown leather wallet with a family Christmas photo displaying a happy couple, with a tan John Doe and his lovely Vanna White impersonator of a wife and two rosy cheeked rugrats.   
  
Daddy wasn't coming home this Christmas. I threw up.   
  
---  
  
I saw an organ donor card, a movie stub and worst of all a Credit Dauphine pass card.  
  
Just as I was about to freak out at the news that my one night stand; my kiss-em-and-kill-em buddy was an SD-6 tracker, my cell phone rang.  
  
A frantic Vaughn said "Syd."  
  
"yeah." I answered distractedly.  
  
"Where the hell are you?" He wouldn't believe me if I told him.  
  
"Just woke up…." Not that far from the truth. I had just woken up… with a corpse. I wasn't a necrophiliac though; at least I hoped I wasn't.   
  
"Did you call me an hour ago?" Damn he was good. He must have had caller ID, I meant to get that forever ago.  
  
"no." I lied.  
  
"Sydney is anything wrong?"  
  
"no." I lied again. If I can just keep saying 'no' without thinking about it I'd be fine.  
  
"Where are you?" that damn question again.   
  
"In bed." It wasn't that far from the truth. I had been in bed, but now I wasn't.  
  
"Where's Will?" his voice sounded hurt. He thought… he must have known I wasn't at home. He must have known Will wasn't at home. He must have thought I was having an affair with Will. That lie was more believable then the actual conundrum.   
  
"He's here." I said breathlessly. "Where?" his voice cracked. I loved this man, I couldn't hide or lie to him about this; I decided if he asked me where again I'd tell him.  
  
"Vaughn. I'm handling everything."  
  
"But I'm your handler." I couldn't see his eyes and yet I knew that they were puppy dog eyes filled with compassion and worry.   
"I need to go." I said.  
  
"I broke up my Alice last night." Why did he have to tell me that? I was doing so well deconstructing.  
  
"I'm sorry." I mumbled out of habit. I wasn't sorry, I wasn't much of anything. I was indifferent to this tidbit because it was a new day and not yesterday. Yesterday I would have jumped for glee because Alice was gone. Ding Dong the bitch was dead. That was uncalled for, because I didn't know her well enough, oh well I think I'm allowed a foul mouth it's an unwritten rule when you wake up to a dead body.   
  
"I broke up with her. I didn't mean to hurt you." And I didn't mean to drink myself into a stupor.  
  
"It's okay." It wasn't okay.  
  
"Don't get the wrong impression Will is helping with something."   
  
"Need help? You sounded like you did?" I need many things but being distracted by Vaughn wasn't one of them.  
  
I heard a knock on the door and told Vaughn to hold on but I was surprised to see that Vaughn was at the door. "I tracked your call."  
  
"You can't come in!" I barked.  
  
"I'm afraid I need to. It's difficult to help being on this side of the door." The man had a point.  
  
"You're not going to like what you see…"  
  
I let him in. He saw the bed, He saw the room, and he saw me.   
  
"What happened?" He looked at me as though I was a victim. "I killed a man." I said it for the first time and it left a bad taste in my mouth.  
  
He looked Taken aback. Will choose that moment to enter the room. "No you didn't." he said.  
  
"That guy has been dead for weeks." Will continued. The register says the room hasn't been cleaned for weeks. His name was Aaron Phielps. He Checked in a few weeks ago… never checked out."  
  
I gulped. Vaughn looked confused but it wasn't complicated. "I wasn't raped. I didn't kill him?" I asked skeptically because I wasn't about to do the happy happy joy joy dance if I was wrong.  
  
"No." Will responded.  
  
"He was a tracker though. He had an SD-6 Pass card. How do you explain that?"  
  
Vaughn piped in, "Maybe he was doing surveillance work. Killed in the line of duty. Let's get out of here."  
  
It was creepy. It was definitely bizarre but I was Sydney Bristow and this was one of the things I accepted. As the three of us prepared to leave the room, Will posed one last question, "What about fingerprints?"  
  
"We don't leave any." I answered.  
  
Vaughn clarified by saying, "You'd never imagine that ascorbic acid and a load of painkillers could be worth it."  
  
So the three of us left. We ignored the obvious. We didn't question how I had gotten there, or how exactly my mystery man died. We just allowed those details to fade into the mystery that is my life.  
  
As we were parting our separate ways, Will going to his car and Vaughn and I going to his I began to wonder if the mischievous smile of the Mona Lisa had anything to do with her knowing what was to come.  
  
* The End* 


End file.
